


Merlin Wings and Golden Kings

by PurpleFlyingBird



Series: Merlin Wings [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Animal Transformation, As fluffy as Merlin's feathers, Banter, Canon Era, Cuddling & Snuggling, Falling In Love, Fluff, Forests, Hunters & Hunting, M/M, Magic, Merlin!Merlin, POV Arthur, POV Third Person, Reveal, Romantic Fluff, Spirits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-22 13:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13765452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleFlyingBird/pseuds/PurpleFlyingBird
Summary: During a hunting trip, Arthur encounters an injured falcon which he takes with him back to Camelot. The two bond and become inseparable. However, the merlin falcon Arthur has come to know and care for isn’t all that it seems to be.Later, Arthur soon finds himself with the company of a mysterious man.Who is Merlin? Why do his eyes look so familiar?





	1. Merlin Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own BBC's Merlin.
> 
> Note: Also please check out Purpleplums' fanart of this fanfic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13967439
> 
> Enjoy!

His hunting trip started like every other hunt Arthur had relished in the past. Sunlight filtered through the lush canopy of the deciduous forest trees casting dappled shadows over the Prince and his only companion-his horse. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the bush he hid behind, whispering words he could not understand.

When Arthur lifted his crossbow, he felt the weight of his duties on his shoulders lift with it. Feeling more relaxed than he has ever been in the past few weeks, Arthur sighed blissfully as he aimed his weapon at the peacefully grazing hart in the forest clearing. The stag had a set of prized antlers that would make him a worthy trophy for the halls of Camelot, a trophy that would make his father proud.

_Carefully…_

He lined up the tip of the bolt with the stag’s chest, where the heart would be, while taking in account of the distance and other variables that could affect his aim.

_There. Got you._

He slowly moved his finger until it was in position over the trigger. Distantly, Arthur absentmindedly thought he could hear a flock of ravens cawing in triumph.

_What the-? No!_

 Before Arthur could even pull the trigger, the hart lifted its majestically endowed head-ears pricked up-then bounded off into the woods, melting into the shadows and out of Arthur’s sight.

Frustrated, Arthur ran his fingers through his golden hair, tugging on it hard when he realised he had just lost another opportunity to please his father. Arthur was certain he hadn’t given himself away. He had stayed down wind, out of sight and was as silent as a cat stalking a mouse. So why had it run off like a dragon was on its tail?

The golden-haired prince scanned the clearing for a clue but it remained serene and empty, basking in the warmth of the sun as it mocked him. Huffing irritably, Arthur turned on his heel to pack up and leave so he could go after his quarry when a loud, distressed screech from above caught his attention.

Raising a hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun, he lifted his head to peer at the sky and…was promptly met with a face full of feathers as something collided into him. Instantly, Arthur lost his footing with a startled shout, falling backwards onto the hard ground, taking his attacker with him. Panicked shrill screeching filled his ears, causing him to wonder if he’ll ever be able to hear again once this was over.

Arthur could feel a pair of feathered wings whacking his face relentlessly and winced when a set of sharp talons pierced his chest through his leather hunting jacket. After a short struggle, Arthur had managed to wrestle with his assailant and clap his hands over the pair of wings, effectively keeping them shut and allowing him to get a better look at what it was.

A small falcon, still shrieking, was trapped between his palms. Looking closely, now that the bird’s wings weren’t poking his eyes out anymore, Arthur could see how the glossy navy blue feathers on the back of the falcon were flecked with gold that glittered like specks of metal in the afternoon sun. Down the pale brown front of the bird, he could see a strange reddish-brown V-shape that wrapped from its chest to around its neck. When he looked at the bird’s face, their eyes met and Arthur was surprised to see they were a beautiful blue-grey like the untameable sea he had once glimpsed as a boy.

Now eerily silent, the falcon stared back at him, as if he was studying Arthur like the way he was studying it. The falcon was the first to shatter the silence with a soft melodic chirp that sparked a memory from when Arthur was learning the different methods of hunting, including hawking.

_A merlin. This falcon is a merlin._

Now that he had realised this, Arthur noted that the falcon didn’t look anything like the typical merlin he remembered seeing in the citadel’s mews as a boy.

“I suppose you’d want me to let you go now,” Arthur said, voicing his thoughts as he stood up and prepared to release the falcon. “Ready?” He asked, feeling slightly silly talking to a bird. The falcon screeched in alarm and began struggling as Arthur raised it higher taking its sharp cries as a ‘yes’.

“Go!” He threw the bird up into the air, fully expecting it to soar gracefully into the blue abyss of the sky above, yet instead he watched in shock as the falcon fell unceremoniously onto the earth with a soft thud.

Arthur rushed towards the fallen falcon and scooped the bird carefully into his hands. “You idiot! Why didn’t you use these wings of yours and fly away?” He chided as he examined the wild bird. On it’s left wing he noticed blood dripping from a gap in it’s long feathers, probably from another bird or a predator of some sort. “Oh…your wing…”  The merlin’s head swivelled to examine the wound itself, and upon seeing the damage, let out a mournful chirp.

Arthur spent one long moment torn on whether or not to leave it or take it back with him to Camelot. When the falcon stared up at him with those large watery blue eyes the decision was made for him. How could he just leave it to die in this forest when it was looking at him like _that?!_

Cradling the injured bird to his chest, Arthur dug around in his saddlebags until he found a thin blanket. With little effort the Prince of Camelot tore a long strip of fabric from the blanket before sitting down on the earth with the bird on his lap. His fingers fumbled with the strip, unused to what Gaius normally does, as he struggled to wind the make-shift bandage neatly around the merlin’s injured wing.

“Aha! Done!” Arthur exclaimed proudly once he had finished binding the wound. If it was possible the merlin would have rolled its eyes at Arthur’s words, but since it couldn’t it just settled on giving Arthur a rather strange look.

 Instead of getting up, Arthur remained seated, staring at the bird of prey that he had perched on his thigh. Curious, Arthur lifted his hand and held it there, cautious. When his fingers weren’t bitten off, he lightly ran them from the bird’s head and down the back of its neck, the feathers were warm and soft beneath them. The merlin cooed contently and leaned into his touch, surprising Arthur once again for it was odd that a wild bird would act so tame.

“Let’s get back to Camelot, shall we?” Said Arthur softly. At his words the bird became alert instantly and stared at Arthur with wide-eyes, its sharp beak open in a way that strangely resembled how a person would gawp at someone. “Don’t worry, Gaius will help patch you up and you’ll be flying again before you know it,” reassured Arthur as he gave the bird one last stroke before they began their journey back.

* * *

“When will Merlin be able to fly again?” Arthur asked, impatiently. Gaius, who had been busy examining his new and unusual patient, raised his head so that he could give Arthur a look that was accompanied by his infamous arching eyebrow (much to Arthur’s horror).

“Merlin, Sire?” Gaius repeated, his eyebrow still raised to a height that could make even Uther cower at the mere sight of it. The falcon, who throughout the examination had been looking aimlessly around the room, swivelled its head to stare incredulously at Arthur.

“Uh, yes, er…Merlin that’s its name,” explained Arthur. He didn’t even realise he had named it until Gaius had pointed it out. Besides, Arthur wasn’t known for his naming skills.

“A merlin bird called Merlin…” Gaius muttered, amused. “To answer your question Sire, I do not usually treat animals on a daily basis. However, I have studied books on the anatomy of fauna, thus I can tell that this tercel is missing some of its primary feathers around its wound.”

“Tercel?”

“Merlin is a male, Sire,” explained Gaius as he cleaned, treated and wrapped Merlin’s wing in a bandage with more finesse than Arthur had managed. “With enough rest, Merlin’s feathers should regrow and he will be able to fly again. Until then, feed him correctly and give him plenty of water. Here, this book will give you more information on a merlin’s diet. Now off you go and take this bird of yours with you. This area needs to be clean when my next patient comes in later.”

With a heavy textbook thrusted into his arms and Merlin perched precariously on his shoulder, Arthur was ushered out of the room before he had even realised what had happened. The door slammed shut behind him the instant Arthur had stepped foot into the hallway and he blinked dazedly for a moment. He shared a look with Merlin before chuckling to himself and setting off towards his chambers.

* * *

The next morning, Arthur was roused from his sleep by loud cheerful chirps in his ear. “ _G’way_ George,” Arthur grumbled, voice drowsy and muffled by his luxury pillows. Unfortunately for Arthur’s ears, the screeching continued until he blinked the blurriness from his eyes. Once his eyes had focused, the Prince was surprised to see Merlin on a pillow beside his head. Merlin, seeing that Arthur was now awake, chirped smugly as he puffed his feathers proudly. “Stop looking so proud of yourself, _Mer_ lin.”   

Merlin just chirped gleefully in response, blue eyes glinting mischievously.

“Why are you looking at me like that? You said something that’s disrespectful, didn’t you? You’re lucky that I don’t understand birds,” responded Arthur, without any venom in his voice.

Merlin cocked his head to one side, the perfect picture of innocence if not for the impish glint in his eye.

“You know, Merlin, there are times when you act more like a human than a bird. It’s almost as if you…” Arthur trailed off as he realised Merlin had stopped paying attention to him and was now preening the feathers on his uninjured wing. “…Understand. And now it’s gone,” he finished, both amused and exasperated.

Arthur got up and headed over to his wardrobe, knowing he would need to get ready for morning training, to gather what he needed. Before he left, Arthur turned back and ordered, “Stay here and rest, I’ll be back before lunch.”

Arthur was only able to take one step before panicked screeches filled the room as Merlin launched himself off the bed in an attempt to fly after him, only to tumble to the floor instead. “You idiot! You could have hurt yourself!” Arthur scolded as he stormed over to where the bird had fallen in a gangly heap of feathers on the wooden floorboards. Once he scooped Merlin up into his arms, the falcon leaped to his feet on Arthur’s arm before scrambling up onto his shoulder. “What are you doing? No, get off! _Mer_ lin! You’re supposed to stay here and heal. I’ve got duties that need attending, now get off.”

The Prince struggled in vain to remove the falcon from where he was clinging onto his shoulder. Each time he tried to carefully tug the bird off, Merlin only dug his talons into Arthur’s shoulder harder. It _hurt._ Arthur winced. “ _Fine!_ Come along, though you’ll regret it once you’re stuck in the council meeting,” _the bird was almost as stubborn as Morgana_.

* * *

As Arthur strode down the hallways of the citadel, servants passing gaped and whispered to each other, unused to seeing a falcon perched on the Prince’s shoulder. When the Prince arrived on the training grounds, his knights did a double take at seeing the handsome bird of prey on Arthur’s shoulder. Together, Arthur and his falcon created a truly majestic image.

A low whistle pierced the silent gawking, “I didn’t know you had a pet, Princess, where’d you get him?” Gwaine asked, reaching a hand out towards Merlin.

“I don’t. Merlin is just staying with me until he gets better, that’s all,” Arthur replied, swerving out of the way so that Gwaine’s hand missed. Gwaine pouted and the rest of the knights chuckled. “Now let’s get started, but first…” Arthur moved over to the sidelines so that Merlin could walked down his arm and hop onto the bench. “You wait there Merlin.”

Merlin chirped at what could have been a ‘Yes, Sire,’ in response. Arthur nodded and while he was giving his knights their orders, Merlin made himself comfortable as he settled in to watch them spar.

* * *

After many gaping servants, amazed nobles and gawking knights the first few days, now the inhabitants of the citadel were used to seeing the magnificent falcon perched upon the Prince’s shoulder. The pair were inseparable and went everywhere together, even Morgana had commented on how regal they looked.

The weeks passed by faster than Arthur anticipated as Merlin’s wing healed and all too soon Gaius announced that Merlin was now fully recovered. “His primary feathers have regrown and the wound has now healed. If he so desires, Merlin can fly now, Sire.” Merlin chirped joyfully at the news, flapping his wings excitedly from where he was perched on the back of a chair.

“That’s great news,” said Arthur, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke. He tried to smile but it turned into something of a grimace instead as his lips strained to stay curved upwards. Merlin, sensing Arthur’s sadness, took off from the chair and flew a lap around the room before clumsily landing onto Arthur’s shoulder. Merlin nuzzled at Arthur’s cheek and gently nibbled his ear until he chuckled. “ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur admonished fondly, his smile now warm and genuine.

“Sire?” Gaius said, raising his eyebrow at them.

“I’ll release him in the forest this evening, Gaius,” Arthur promised before leaving the room to spend the rest of the day together with Merlin.

* * *

Just as the sun starts to set, bathing the forest in a wash of gold, Arthur arrives at the clearing in which they first met. Slowly, he dismounts his steed and with slumped shoulders he carries Merlin past the tree line to where the canopy opens up to the honey-coloured sky. “Here we are. I guess you should get going then,” stated Arthur, trying not to appear upset but failing as his voice cracks, betraying his grief.

 Merlin turns to look up at Arthur with sad, wide blue eyes and releases one long sorrowful note. Arthur lifts his hand and smiles sadly as Merlin nuzzles into it, chirping pleasantly. His thumb strokes Merlin’s cheek as the falcon leans into his touch and Arthur suddenly finds himself struggling to hold back a choked sob. ‘ _I’ll miss you,_ ’ were the silent words exchanged between them, unsaid but not unacknowledged for it was spoken through their heartfelt actions.

“Go, Merlin,” encouraged Arthur while trying not to think about how this was most likely the last time they’ll ever see each other. Merlin hops from his shoulder and onto his forearm, swivelling his head around to look back at Arthur, worried and uncertain. “I said _go_ , Merlin!” he snapped, upset. 

Merlin spread his wings, golden flecks sparkling in the setting sun and took flight. He circled the clearing as Arthur watched him, letting out loud cries filled with sorrow and hopeful promises. Merlin dove down, swooping low enough over Arthur so that the tips of his wings kissed his cheeks and ruffled his hair before soaring high into the darkening sky and out of sight. One last fading cry echoed over the peaceful forest as night finally fell and Arthur dropped his gaze to where his hand was clasped around something soft.

A merlin feather.

With one last look at both the sky and the clearing, Arthur turned and began his way back to Camelot.

 


	2. Fluffy Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur encounter each other again.

They were outnumbered.

With every bandit’s life Arthur’s sword claimed, two more would take the fallen bandit’s place. It seemed as though they flowed out of the forest in unlimited numbers like a tap left open with no way to close it. Arthur’s surroundings became a blur as he sliced and slashed at every enemy that dared to challenge him.

_Fwoooosh!_

Arthur heard the bandit before he felt a blow to the back of his head that sent stars scattering across his vision as the world went black.

When he came to again, his head was pounding and his sight blurry from the pain and his time spent suddenly unconscious. He first noticed the lack of sounds of battle once his ears stopped ringing. Then he remembered what had happened and sat up gasping, thus realising that he wasn’t dead.

“Easy there! Don’t sit up so fast,” an unfamiliar voice pierced through the fog of Arthur’s brain as he felt warm hands gently lower him back down again.

“Wha-” Arthur’s voice was rough and he coughed to clear his throat. “What happened?”

“I saved you,” the voice answered so cheerfully Arthur could practically hear the smile in it.

Blinking Arthur’s eyes came back into focus and the first thing he noticed was the beaming smile aimed at him. Still groggy, Arthur’s gaze trailed up from the soft lips to a pair of beautiful blue-grey eyes that twinkled with joy. They looked very familiar, as though he had seen them somewhere before, yet no matter how hard he tried Arthur couldn’t grasp the memory. _Where had he seen those eyes before?_

As the memory kept on alluding him, Arthur took in the rest of the man’s appearance, noting the ruffled dark hair, prominent ears and the ridiculous red neckerchief. His threadbare jacket and faded-blue tunic suggested he was a peasant from somewhere. “Who are you?” He asked, curious. The man blinked in surprise.

“I’m Merlin,” he replied, lips twitching into an amused smile as though sharing an inside joke with himself.  “You’re Arthur,” it wasn’t a question. Arthur wasn’t surprised that the man had recognised him, being a Prince meant he was often recognised by many strangers who lived in Camelot. However, the way he pronounced Arthur’s name wasn’t the same way a stranger would, he had said it with an underlying hint of fondness. Strange.

“Merlin? After the falcon?” Arthur asked, remembering the injured bird that had kept him company everywhere he went three months ago.

A merlin falcon he had named Merlin.

“Yes,” Merlin chirped cheerfully, familiar blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

Arthur slowly sat up, mindful not to do so too fast. “You mentioned you saved me? Where are my knights?” He scanned the secluded area around them from where he was positioned under the tree.

Merlin offered him a water skin and Arthur muttered some thanks, grateful for the throat-soothing drink. “You were knocked unconscious and I brought you here so that you wouldn’t get killed while you were so vulnerable,” Merlin explained, Arthur promptly choked on the water.

“My knights were left to fight, _outnumbered?!_ We were surrounded! You took me away and left them all to die! I should have been there to help them!” Arthur’s voice gradually increased in volume as he shouted, furious.

“At least you’re still alive, you _prat!”_ Merlin yelled in reply.

_“You can’t address me like that!”_ Arthur snapped, thunderous, still angry at being separated from his knights when they needed him.

“I’m sorry, but at least you’re still alive, _My Lord_ ,” amended Merlin, sarcasm practically dripping from the title.

“Where are they?” demanded Arthur, snarling at the ~~handsome~~ man. “Where are my knights?”

“That way, _Sire,”_ Merlin jabbed a finger eastwards. He huffed and then stormed off in the opposite direction without so much as a goodbye, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like: _“Ungrateful prat!”_

Irritated, Arthur headed off in the suggested direction and was relieved to find all of his knights alive with no mortal injuries.

* * *

Since then, Arthur felt as though he was being watched, yet every time he turned around there was always nobody there. The sensation was often accompanied by a whisper of wings, but when Arthur scanned the skies they were always birdless.

Arthur shivered, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise once again. Unfortunately for him, the slave traders who had captured him and his knights saw his reaction.

“Are you _scared_ Princeling? _Afraid_ of what we’re going to do with you?” Jeered his captor, the cronies around him guffawing at their prisoner. Arthur’s knights glared back, seething. “Don’t worry little prince, we’re only holding you for ransom. Once we’re all rich, we’ll let you go and if you’re lucky you’ll still have some toes left.”

Another round of raucous laughter.

_“Don’t you dare touch our prince!”_ Leon snarled, struggling with the ropes binding him futilely.

“Or what? You can’t do anything about it,” the leader reminded, smirking wickedly. “Let’s start with his left foot, shall we?”  The hulking man drew out a short jagged blade and roughly yanked off one of the prince’s shoes.  Arthur paled at the sight of the rusted blade, despite being trained in torture resistance, and tried shuffling as far away as he could from the weapon. “Scared already? Heh. I’ll have a lot of fun with this.”

Arthur could feel the point as it dug into the heel of his foot. He winced, refraining from crying out as the blade was dragged slowly upwards, cutting the sock off of him and leaving a painful long gash in its wake.

“You _bastard!”_ Gwaine growled, the group of grunts chuckled callously.

A loud shriek sliced through their laughter as a blur flashed passed, soon followed by a pained scream that tore through the leader’s throat.

“MY EYE! UAAARRH!!!” The man howled in agony, his blade dropped to the earth with a dull thud as he moved both his hands to clutch at his bleeding eye. More cries filled the forest as the rest of Arthur’s captors were attacked.

“Retreat! RETREAT!” One of them yelled, panicked, while scrambling to get away. Taking their wounded leader with them, their captors cowardly took off into the trees.

Their saviour swooped down to landed before them.

“Merlin! You saved us!” Arthur exclaimed, overjoyed to see the falcon he had befriended once again. Merlin trilled jubilantly and bobbed his head.   

“Good birdie!” Gwaine praised, earning him an indignant squawk from the falcon at the use of the nickname. Merlin hopped closer to Arthur and began to pick at the ropes with his sharp beak. After much tugging and pecking, the ropes became frayed enough so that they easily snapped when Arthur pulled them apart.

“He’s a smart bird that’s for sure,” Elyan remarked as Merlin began picking at his bindings next.

“Thank you, Merlin. It’s good to see you’re doing well,” said Lancelot, when the falcon had finished with his ropes too, speaking to Merlin as though he were a person and not just an ordinary bird. Merlin nodded, giving the Knight the bird equivalent of a smile.

Finished with his task, Merlin took off into the air and circled the clearing while the knights stood up, shaking the remains of the ropes from their bodies. “Merlin, over here,” Arthur called, holding up an arm towards him. The falcon tipped his wing to one side, banking, then flew low over the ground and swooped upwards to land on Arthur’s offered arm. He overbalanced slightly as he landed, causing him to fan his tail and flap his wings desperately in order to help him regain his balance. “Still hopeless at landing I see,” Arthur commented, smiling fondly. Merlin gave a soft warble in response.

“Is Merlin coming back with us to Camelot, Sire?” Leon asked, gesturing to the bird on the Arthur’s arm.

“As much as I would like him to, Leon, it is best that Merlin stays here,” Arthur replied, sadly. Merlin shuffled up his arm and once he was on his shoulder, began nuzzling Arthur’s cheek. Arthur lifted a hand and softly stroked the feathers on the back of Merlin’s neck, causing the bird to chitter happily. Merlin tilted his head, giving the prince better access, while he gently nibbled Arthur’s ear. “I missed you too,” Arthur muttered at a volume only Merlin could hear.

The knights watched as the merlin falcon took off into the sky above, giving Arthur one last glance back before disappearing over the trees.

“I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon, Merlin,” Arthur mused aloud, staring up into the patches of blue between the lush green leaves, a hopeful smile lingering on his lips.

* * *

“Merlin! Here, Merliiiiin!” Arthur called, eyes searching the branches of the trees for his companion. “Merlin!”

“I’m here, I’m here, you don’t have to shout,” a familiar voice spoke up from behind him. Arthur whirled round to see the ~~handsome~~ peasant boy from last time.

“I wasn’t calling for _you_ ,” corrected Arthur, irritated.

“Yes you were, you were calling my name and last time I checked it was Merlin,” Merlin replied, cheekily, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“You’re not a bird, _Mer_ lin, you were named after one. There’s a difference,” Arthur retorted, turning away so that he could scan the trees again.

“So you were calling for a falcon of yours?” asked Merlin from where he stood beside Arthur. “Sire,” he tacked the title on at the end of it like an afterthought, Arthur just rolled his eyes.

“He’s not mine, I just looked after him for a while,” Arthur answered, not taking his eyes off of the sky above. “Merlin! Merrrrliiiiiiiiin! Where _is_ he?”

“He’s probably busy somewhere,” Arthur glanced back in time to see a strange glint in Merlin’s eyes.

“Probably,” Arthur agreed, a thought sudden surfaced and he voiced it, “You don’t think that naming a merlin falcon ‘Merlin’ is unimaginative, do you? I’ve noticed you haven’t commented on it.” _Or teased him._

“I think it’s a great name,” Merlin declared and Arthur was taken aback by the sudden seriousness in his tone. A moment passed as Arthur tried to fathom him out but instead got lost in those strangely familiar blue eyes.

It shattered when Arthur spoke again. “Of course you do,” moment over, Arthur rolled his eyes and chuckled. Merlin grinned.

“There’s something about you, Merlin… I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

* * *

The next time they meet is while Arthur is out enjoying a hunt in the forest by himself.

“Killing more innocent animals, Arthur?” A voice piped up from beside him, causing Arthur to jolt and pull the trigger. The crossbow bolt is released with a resounding _twang_ and cuts through the air straight passed his target. Startled, the stag sprang into the protection of the trees and bushes, escaping his weapon’s range once more.

“ _Mer_ lin!” Arthur growled, cuffing the man over the back of his ear.

“OW! What was that for?!” Merlin yelped, rubbing his sore ear.

“ _That_ was for scaring off my prey, you idiot. I would have gotten it if you hadn’t distracted me!” Merlin opened his mouth to retort but cut himself off with a violent, full-bodied shiver as a frigid breeze chose that moment to pick up. When Arthur turned to check the sky he noticed some thunderclouds approaching them, carried faster across the skies on the wild winds. After some quick calculations, Arthur deduced that he wouldn’t be able to get back to Camelot-even on horseback-before the storm hit. “We need to find some shelter. _Now.”_

Merlin was the first to find it. An old oak tree stood proudly, its branches creaking ominously with the rough treatment given to it by the unforgiving winds. “This will do perfectly!” Merlin exclaimed enthusiastically.

“I suppose it’ll have to do. A cave would have been a better option,” Arthur said, resigned to spending a rough night half-drenched in the pouring rain beneath the tree.

“After you then, _Sire,”_ offered Merlin, performing an overly elaborate bow and presenting the tree with a flourish. Only once Arthur had arrived at Merlin’s side did he see what the ~~attractive~~ man had been gesturing to.

“Merlin! You never cease to amaze me,” said Arthur as he stared at a secret hollow section of the tree’s trunk. The tree certainly showed its age not only by its ancient weathered bark but by the scars from the trials it had encountered in its long life. Like a cave of bark, the hollowed trunk would provide them with the sheltered they so desired.

Arthur slipped inside, making himself comfortable in the back as Merlin entered last. Now that the two of them were inside their make-shift cave, they encountered their next problem.

There was barely enough room for two.

_“Oof!”_ Was the sound of the air leaving Arthur as a bony elbow jabbed into his gut, “Stop that!”

_“Ow!_ Did you just _kick me_ in the _face?!”_ Arthur heard Merlin yelp somewhere across from him.

_“Move then!_ Don’t just sit there! Budge over!” The prince ordered, nudging with his shoe some more.

“There’s no more room, you prat!” He heard some shuffling and the rustling of fabric before Merlin spoke again. _“You_ budge over.”

Arthur sputtered momentarily from the shock of being ordered by someone who wasn’t his father. “ _Mer_ lin! You can’t order me like that! I’m the prince!”

“Shouldn’t princes be more chivalrous? You should be generous, O’ Prince, and deign to give a lowly peasant such as I, more room to sleep in,” Merlin replied, tone snarky.

“That’s it, you insolent little-”

_Fwack!_

“Oww! Oh, now you’re just doing that on purpose!”

The heavens opened and the rain fell relentlessly upon the forest ground, its constant drumming drowning out the sounds of any further arguments. Peeking out through the trunk’s mouth, they watched as a bright flash lit up the dark sky. Ten seconds filled with the sound of torrential rain passed until a distant rumble of thunder was heard.

Arthur could feel Merlin shifting around in a poor attempt to get comfortable. A minute passed and he couldn’t bare it any longer. He snapped. “Just settle down, will you?”

“I can’t, argh, there’s no-AAH!” Merlin’s yelp was the only warning Arthur received before a weight collapsed onto him. He felt a hand pressing down on his chest and another on his arm as Merlin attempted to push himself away from him.

“Get off me, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur growled as he wrestled with the body writhing above him. They only succeeded in sealing their fate as Merlin’s limbs tangled with his.

“Oh…I’m stuck,” stated Merlin, Arthur could feel warm puffs of air on his neck as Merlin panted from all the struggling.

It was starting to get a bit _too_ hot. “ _Move,_ Merlin,” Arthur commanded, pushing at the body above him.

“Arthur! I can’t! _Mmf?!”_ The rest of Merlin’s speech had been muffled as he fell back onto Arthur again. Now all Arthur could focus on was the warm press of Merlin’s lips into his side of his neck. _“Mf’thur!”_ Merlin’s shocked exclamation was stifled by the slide of his lips against Arthur’s skin.

“You _idiot,”_ Arthur groaned, his tone exasperated with an underlying fondness. Unable to dislodge himself, Merlin decided to just make himself comfortable where he was. With his head tucked under Arthur’s chin, Merlin curled up on top of the prince. Arthur sighed, both resigned and pleased, and wrapped his arms around the man so that they were in a more comfortable position.

He drowsily lifted a hand as the thunder boomed above while the harsh wind howled, driving sheets of rain into the earth. When Arthur’s fingers carded through Merlin’s hair, he was reminded of the merlin falcon’s feathers. Soft. _So soft._ Merlin hummed contently, his breathes evening out as he drifted off to sleep.

Drowsiness swept over Arthur in a wave, when his eyelids slid shut, he felt his own breaths slowing as he fell asleep to the soothing sound of rolling thunder and Merlin’s calm breathing.

* * *

Every time Arthur went out hunting, he always found himself in Merlin’s-the peasant’s- company. It happened so frequently that the prince had taken to bringing along a spare bedroll for the ~~handsome~~ inept man to sleep in. Until, one frosty day, this changed. It was one of those days that Arthur often felt overwhelmed by all the duties he has as the prince. Hence, why he was out hunting in the forest instead of being buried under stacks of parchment.

Shivering, Arthur pulled his cloak tighter around his body with one hand while the other steadied the crossbow.

_Twang! Whooooooosh!_

_Thud…_

“Perfect,” Arthur smiled victoriously at the success of his hunt. So far he had caught a brace of rabbits and a doe. Being one of those days when Merlin turns up later rather than sooner, Arthur gets to savour how smoothly everything is going without that clumsy man scaring all his prey off.

After several minutes of numb fumbling fingers and a little coaxing, Arthur manages to get a small fire going. Its flickering flames emitted enough heat for him to thaw some of his frozen appendages.

_Snap!_

Arthur flinched instinctively at the sound, muscles tensing. It didn’t sound like it had come from the fire, but rather amongst the trees surrounding him, which means...

“ _There_ you are! What are you doing on this side of the forest?” Arthur relaxed as Merlin settled down beside him and began tending to the fire.

“There’s more game here than there is near Camelot,” explained Arthur, the weight on his shoulder lightening with every second he spent with Merlin. With a quick glance at the sky, Arthur noted that the sun was already starting to dip below the horizon, casting its golden glow over the shivering trees surrounding them.

“It’s getting dark, who is taking the first watch?” Merlin asked, having noticed the approaching dusk too.

“I will. Go to sleep, Merlin,” replied Arthur, not taking his unfocused gaze from the hypnotising patterns that the flames of the fire were constantly creating. The prince listened to the sound of dirt-muffled footsteps as Merlin plodded over to Arthur’s saddlebags. Arthur then heard the tell-tale clinking and rustling of Merlin digging through the bags, searching for the spare bedroll that Arthur had taken to bringing with him on his hunting trips.

Silence.   

Then…

“Arthur, where’s the spare?” Merlin’s voice rang out over the soft crackling of the fire, confused.

“Hmm? It should be there, _Mer_ lin. Use your eyes, that’s what they’re there for,” said Arthur as he rolled his own eyes at his companion’s antics.

 “ _Arthur_. It’s definitely _not_ here, I’ve checked all of it,” frustration now seeping into Merlin’s voice as he spoke. Arthur sighed heavily.                                                                                                         

“Then you haven’t checked it thoroughly enough. Here, I’ll do it,” Arthur stood up from his sitting place by the fire, stretched his sleepy limbs before sauntering over to where Merlin was crouching over the bags. He picked up the bag in which he usually put it in, showed it to Merlin who raised an eyebrow at him, and dipped his hand into it.

Pawing around inside the bag, Arthur felt around for the familiar soft texture of the fur blanket. His hand brushed against several smooth objects before his fingertips met the surface he was searching for. Clamping his fingers around the fluffy material, Arthur tugged until the blanket came free of its confinement.

“See, _Mer_ lin, it was right here,” Arthur proclaimed smugly, brandishing the fur bedroll before Merlin with a flourish.

“But Arthur, that’s _yours_ ,” Merlin pointed out, unimpressed.

_What?_

Slowly, Arthur dropped his gaze down to the material in his hands, a black wolf pelt of a fine quality. The spare was an earthy brown with missing patches of fur from its old age.

Merlin was right.

Arthur was _so_ desperate to escape the citadel that he had uncharacteristically forgotten to bring the spare bedroll. A problem magnified by the fact that on this day, the winds were so bitterly cold they were snapping at every piece of exposed skin like a vengeful wyvern.

_How could he be so forgetful?!_ Arthur glared at the inky black fur in his hands as if it was the one at fault. His bedroll ignored him.

“I guess I’ll be sleeping on the ground tonight. The hard, cold ground with no comfy warm furs to curl up in,” groaned Merlin, melodramatically.  

“No,” Arthur’s voice was almost too quiet for anyone to hear him.

“What was that?” Merlin asked, shifting around from his chosen spot on the frosty ground to peer back at Arthur.

“Use this. I don’t sleep during watch duty unlike some people, _Mer_ lin. So I won’t be needing that any time soon,” explained Arthur as he tossed the fur bedroll at Merlin’s face.

“But-” Merlin spluttered from his face-full of fur, spitting loose hairs from his mouth.

_“Merlin?”_

“Shut up?” Guessed Merlin.

“Yes. Now _go to sleep,”_ ordered Arthur, Merlin complied with a muttered “ _Prat”_ as he settled down into the warmth of the furs. An hour passed by with only the sounds of slow gentle breathing and the merry crackling of the fire to fill it. As he neared the end of his vigil, Arthur began to feel drowsy, lulled by the tranquillity around him.

He should go to bed.

Merlin is using his bedroll.

Arthur stumbled over to where the bedroll had been placed, not too far from the fire but not too close either. The expression on Merlin’s face was open and relaxed, he looked innocent as he slept tucked comfortably between the soft furs. It reminded Arthur of the time when they had slept in each other’s arms as they hid from the storm in a hollowed tree trunk.

So it shouldn’t matter if they shared a bedroll too, right? It wasn’t all that different to the cramped hollow of that tree…

Decision made, Arthur lifted one side of the blanket for him to get in, causing Merlin to shiver subconsciously and wriggle deeper underneath the blanket. Smiling fondly, Arthur slipped under the furs and was instantly enveloped in a cocoon of warmth.

Settling onto his side so that his back faced Merlin, Arthur felt his tired eyes droop shut. From behind him, Arthur heard little snuffling sounds and the crunching of leaves beneath their bedroll as Merlin shifted around.

With each breath, his racing pulse slowed and Arthur felt himself drift deep towards the realm of dreams. Arthur was at the very edge of the abyss of unconciousness when he felt something solid slide around his waist, bringing him back to consciousness.

 Blinking slowly, Arthur squinted down to find one of Merlin’s arms wrapped around him protectively. Instantly, he felt more awake as the blood rushed to his cheeks. Merlin’s fingers closed around the fabric of Arthur’s tunic, clutching it in his sleep.

“Ar…thur…” A quiet mutter. The hand tugged and Arthur found himself rolling over onto his other side.

The side facing Merlin.

Then there was a warm body pressing against his front, a soft-haired head nuzzling into the crook of his neck. A serene sigh escaped the sleeping man’s mouth as he nestled into Arthur’s arms.

Arthur froze.

Should he wake him? One glance at the ~~cute~~ relaxed expression on Merlin’s face answered that question.

He sighed. _How is he supposed to fall asleep now?_

His question was answered once again as Merlin’s familiar scent enveloped him and Arthur’s breathing slowed once more. There was the scent of the forest, fresh and calming, wafting from Merlin as well as something he can’t quite fathom out. It was an odd mixture of ozone and the sort of scent that one would encounter when handling birds. ‘ _Strange…yet…very comforting…’_ Arthur thought, drifting off the edge and falling fast asleep.

* * *

The first thing Arthur noticed as he was slowly roused from his dreams, was something warm and soft pressing against his mouth. Almost instinctively, Arthur responded, his lips sliding across the silky surface.

A low moan reverberated in his ears and Arthur was brought back to almost full alertness when his name was murmured against his lips by a familiar voice. _“Arthur…”_ That one word was brimming with love and devotion.

“Merlin?” He mumbled sleepily, lips sliding against lips. Arthur blinked his eyes sleepily and opened them to see Merlin’s eyelashes, so close that he could count each of the individual hairs if he so wished.

He was kissing Merlin.

_Kissing. Merlin._

_“Merlin?!”_ Arthur yelped in surprise, his open mouth giving Merlin the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in. _“Mmf?!”_

Merlin’s tongue slid against his, causing Arthur’s eyes to slip shut again as he gasped and moaned, lost in the sensations. The sounds encouraged Merlin, who crawled on top of Arthur, kissing the prince passionately as he straddled him. They poured all their unsaid feelings into each other, into their kiss, born from their shared glances and small touches full of longing.

 Arthur felt a warm hand tenderly cradle his cheek, a slightly calloused thumb brushing his skin and sending a pleasant tingling all the way down to his toes, while the back of Merlin’s other hand gently caressed the side of his neck. The prince wrapped his arms around Merlin’s neck, running his fingers through the soft curls of hair and pulling the handsome man down until he was flush against him.

When their kiss broke, they panted, foreheads touching as Merlin rested his head against Arthur’s. Arthur gazed up at Merlin and their eyes met, blue meeting blue, both swirling with adoration and love for each other.

_“Merlin,”_ Arthur breathed the name, barely a whisper, wrapping each vowel in affection rather than the frequent usual exasperation. Merlin’s lips curved into a wonderful smile for Arthur and Arthur alone. “Would you…” He gulped before continuing, “Would you come back to Camelot with me?”

Merlin’s beautiful blue eyes widened and he recoiled, leaping off of Arthur and onto his feet. Arthur was missing the warmth of Merlin’s body pressing against his already. “I’m sorry, Arthur, I can’t.”

“What? Why not?” Arthur asked, hurt and confused, wishing Merlin could go back to kissing him again instead.

“I…I can’t. It’s not…for someone like me…Camelot…I…I just can’t,” Merlin stammered, eyes darting elsewhere, avoiding eye-contact. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it, as he paced around the campsite.

“You can’t or you won’t?” Arthur questioned, his heart sinking in his chest.

“Arthur…please!” Merlin pleaded, kneeling down beside Arthur so that he could take one of Arthur’s hands between two of his own and clasp it. “You must understand that I want to go with you, very much, in fact. But…I won’t, not until…not for a while at the very least. _I’m sorry. I love you,”_ Merlin’s voice cracked with all his emotions on his last few sincere words.

Arthur was silent for a long moment, thinking, while Merlin waited patiently for a reply with imploring blue eyes.

Finally, he broke his silence. “Do you…when you can, will you stay in Camelot with me?”

“Of course I will. I promise,” Merlin vowed.

Later, when they were about to part ways, Arthur pulled Merlin into an embrace and Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck in kind. Arthur buried his face into the crook of Merlin’s neck, lightly brushing his lips against the sensitive skin there and causing Merlin to shiver pleasantly. He then planted a trail of chaste kisses up Merlin’s neck and along his jawline, until he reached Merlin’s flushed ear where Arthur licked the shell once.

A hand came up and tangled into Arthur’s golden hair. Titling his head so that his lips brushed against Merlin’s earlobe, Arthur whispered, _“I love you too.”_

The hand on the back of his head guided Arthur back down to Merlin’s mouth and their lips met once more before they parted.

“Don’t forget to visit again soon, _My Lord,”_ Merlin said the title flirtatiously, complete with a suggestive wink and a sexy smirk that made Arthur blush like one of the citadel’s chambermaids.  

Merlin turned on his heel and disappeared into the woods with a spring in his step, leaving behind a spluttering blushing mess of a prince.


	3. Golden Kings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur becomes King. Secrets are revealed. The Golden Age of Albion dawns.

Since that fateful chilly day, Arthur had often visited Merlin under the pretence of a hunting trip. It was always rather freeing, spending time with Merlin, just holding hands and cuddling, away from all the troubles back in the citadel. Here with Merlin, Arthur can just enjoy being himself with the man who loves him for who he is and not for his status and wealth.

“ _Another_ picnic, Arthur?” Merlin teased as he helped his lover set up the blankets and food in the forest’s clearing.

“I know you love them no matter how cliché they are. Look. I even brought your favourite,” replied Arthur as he presented the array of delicious food to Merlin, smiling charmingly.  

Merlin gave Arthur a peck on the lips to thank him, which was meant to be chaste but soon turned passionate as Arthur deepened it. Arms wrapped around each other, they quickly forgot about the food as they lost themselves in their kissing. When they parted, Merlin settled into Arthur’s arms, content to just spend their limited time together cuddling.

Arthur’s heart fluttered pleasantly in his chest as he held Merlin close to him, revelling in the feel of Merlin’s body tucked against his, his soft hair brushing against the crook of Arthur’s neck.

They basked in the midday sun, enjoying the azure sky and relaxing as they listened to the joyful birdsong around them. As they watched the clouds drift by, Arthur caught sight of a bird hovering by the edge of the clearing.

“It’s a kestrel,” Arthur commented, pointing to the bird of prey a moment before it stooped towards the ground to catch something.

“So it is...I know that kestrel, he’s a nice fellow,” remarked Merlin, his thumb drawing tingling, lazy patterns into Arthur’s palm.

“And how would you know that, _Mer_ lin?” Arthur asked directly into one of Merlin’s ears, lips brushing them as he spoke. He heard Merlin’s breath hitch briefly, making Arthur smile as a warm feeling washed through him.

“You’re not jealous are you?” asked Merlin, smirking up at him.

“Of a bird? Of course not, you _idiot,”_ denied Arthur, his tone fond as he ruffled Merlin’s hair with his free hand. “I already have a bird of prey.”

 Merlin spluttered, turning around to straddle him. “And what’s that supposed to mean, you _prat?”_

“That you should kiss me?” Replied Arthur, slyly. He brought a hand up to gently grip the back of Merlin’s neck, feeling the skin heat up as it flushed beneath his fingers. Merlin rolled his eyes, grinning happily before he leaned in to kiss Arthur again.

Pulling away, Merlin began placing small kisses along Arthur’s neck. When he found a spot which made Arthur moan, his mouth would linger there, sucking and nipping until a mark would blossom.

Arthur tilted his head to one side, trusting as he exposed his neck to Merlin’s loving ministrations. “Speaking of birds of prey, I wonder where Merlin is…” Arthur pondered aloud, his voice breathy.

“I’m. Right. Here. Kissing. You. Clotpole,” panted Merlin, punctuating each word with a kiss, biting down hard once he reached the end of the sentence.

_“Ow!”_ Arthur yelped, bringing a hand up to touch the bleeding love bite. As Merlin busied himself kissing and licking the mark better, Arthur continued, _“_ Not _you_ , the other Merlin. I haven’t seen that bird in months…”

“He must be a very busy bird,” Arthur could feel the amused smile on Merlin’s lips when he murmured against his skin. Merlin then began gently nibbling on Arthur’s ear, bringing back memories of a time when a falcon had done the same.

Arthur then lost all his train of thought when Merlin’s lips met his. All he could think of was his lover’s name.

_Merlin…_

* * *

The next day, Arthur was at his desk working on his stacks of paperwork. No matter how hard he tried to focus on his writing, his mind kept wandering to his lover and the falcon that is his namesake. Reaching into one of his draws, Arthur withdrew a merlin feather from it-the same one which he had been clutching when he first let the falcon he knew fly away.

He turned the feather around between his fingers, feeling its softness and watching as the light caught on the golden flecks, making it sparkle. Arthur sighed.

_Tap! Tap!_

“Enter,” Arthur stated, still deep in thought.

He really should be focusing on his work…

_Tap! Tap! Tap!_

Perhaps he should go and visit Merlin again sometime soon?

_Tap! TAP! Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap!_

“Stop knocking and enter!” Arthur yelled. He was sure he had already given them permission to come in…

_Tap-tap-ta-_

“Enough already!” He snapped, standing from his desk and storming over to his door. Tearing it open, Arthur was met with the sight of an empty hallway. _That’s odd._

_Tap! Tap!_

It was then that the prince noticed the tapping sound had been coming from outside one of his windows. Feeling embarrassed that he hadn’t realised it sooner, Arthur approached the window where the source of the sound was emitting from and opened it.

There was a flutter of wings and a small breeze that ruffled Arthur’s hair as a bird swooped inside, followed by a muffled thump of something crashing on top of his bed.

_“Merlin?”_ Exclaimed Arthur in disbelief. He couldn’t believe that the falcon had come to visit Arthur in his chambers.

Merlin stood up on the bedcovers, wobbling as he struggled to regain his balance and what little left he had of his dignity. Arthur lifted a hand and ran his fingers gently over the feathers on Merlin’s head, smiling fondly when the falcon trilled happily and leaned into his touch. “It’s good to see you too.”

The merlin falcon titled his head, staring up at Arthur with twinkling blue eyes that seemed to silently ask: _Did you miss me?_ Arthur replied just as silently by crooking his forefinger so that he could stroke the fine feathers on Merlin’s cheek. Merlin warbled blissfully as he cocked his head to give Arthur’s finger better access, trusting Arthur’s hand with his delicate neck.

“Do you want to come and see the knights’ training, Merlin?” Offered Arthur. It would be just like old times.

Merlin chirped and flapped up onto Arthur’s shoulder where he often used to perch.

Needless to say, the citadel’s occupants were pleasantly surprised to see their prince and his falcon together once again.

* * *

Arthur’s birthday was supposed to be a happy occasion.

It was supposed to be filled with happiness and cheer, elaborate celebrations and happily drunk nobles.

Instead it was filled with pooling blood, streams of salty tears, a mourning vigil and the death rattle of a dying King. His father.

_“But know this one thing…I always loved you…”_ His father’s last words echoed in Arthur’s mind long after the King had lost consciousness.

“Gaius, can you treat him?” Arthur asked, looking at Gaius desperately. The old physician straightened up from where he had been examining Uther’s dying form.

“The blade has touched his heart. He’s bleeding inside,” informed Gaius, his eyes filled with sorrow.

“There must be something…there must be something that you can do. _Please_ , Gaius,” pleaded Arthur. Gaius sadly shook his head.

 “It is just matter of time, I’m afraid. I’m sorry, Arthur.”

* * *

Arthur dragged his feet to the door, tired from spending an all-night vigil with his father’s body saying goodbye to him. As he exited the room, a familiar weight landed on his shoulder, comforting him.

“Merlin? You been here all night?” Said Arthur, softly. The merlin released a low miserable note in reply. “You’re a loyal friend, Merlin.” He was glad that the falcon was here with him.

The prince took one last look at the Throne Room bathed in sunlight before he closed the door and took a deep breath. Arthur could feel Merlin’s reassuring warmth as he rubbed his head against Arthur’s cheek.

“You must be hungry.”

Merlin chirped, clicking his beak in a way that suggested he was saying: _‘Starving_.’

“Me too…” Arthur closed his eyes, trying to keep the feelings of misery away. It’s a new day. He needed to focus on what he had spent his whole life preparing for. When he opened them he said, “Come on. We’ll go and get some breakfast.”

Camelot needs him and he will not let his people down.

* * *

Excitement and anticipation fills the Throne Room as Arthur walks towards his throne, his crimson cloak trailing behind him. As he kneels, Geoffrey of Monmouth moves to stand next to him with the crown in his hands and Arthur feels the significance of the moment weighing down on him.

“Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the Peoples of Camelot according to their respective laws and customs?” Geoffrey asked, his voice echoing in the room as the people held their breath.

“I solemnly swear so to do,” vowed Arthur.

“Will you to your power cause Law and Justice, in Mercy, to be executed in all your judgments?”

“I will,” he swore, solemnly.

“Then by the sacred laws vested in me, I pronounce you Arthur, King of Camelot!” Geoffrey announced grandly as he lowered the crown upon Arthur’s head. Arthur stood and when he turned to face the audience, he was bathed in a golden glow of sunlight, illuminating his crown as nature herself marked him as King.

“Long live the King! Long live the King! Long live the King!” The crowd resounded with joy in their eyes.

“Long live the King!” Arthur could feel pride welling up, slowly pushing away the sadness, in his chest as he looked out over his people. “Long live the King!”

A flash of glittering gold in the corner of his eye made Arthur glance up. Merlin circled the Throne Room above them. “Long live the King! Long live the King!” The merlin falcon banked then swooped down, soaring low over the heads of the crowd.

_“Long live the King!”_ Merlin let out a resounding cry along with the people, his proud blue eyes meeting Arthur’s.

With a few downward strokes of his wings, Merlin rose high up into the air before soaring out an open window and into the amber sunlight.

* * *

As King, it is Arthur Pendragon’s duty to help the people. So when a peasant woman begged Arthur and his knights, two months into his reign, to slay a magical beast terrorizing her village, he gallantly rushed to help them.

They followed the peasant woman deep into the Darkling Woods, hands on the pommels of their swords as they prepared to defend her from bandits, beasts and other dangers.

When the trees around them became so dense that they cast the forest floor in darkness, the woman stopped.

“What’s wrong, ma’am? Are you feeling well?” Leon politely asked, concerned.

“Do you need to rest? We can do so if you do,” Arthur offered, taking a step towards the woman.

“The one who would be resting is you Arthur Pendragon. For eternity! **_Forbærne!”_** She snarled, whirling around and shooting a ball of fire at him. Arthur dived to one side and rolled, dodging the scorching fireball.

“Sorceress! You tricked us!” He yelled, drawing his sword and brandishing it her.

“It was easy, you’re so _weak!”_ Jeered the sorceress, her fingers of her raised hand splayed. “You’re a fool, Arthur Pendragon, if you and your knights think you can stop me with your blades.” She laughed.

_“Now!”_ Command Arthur. At his signal, his knights lunged with him to attack at the sorceress.

**_“Ecg misse!”_** Hissed the sorceress, her eyes flashing a fierce yellow not unlike the eyes of a ravenous wolf. Arthur and his knights shouted in alarm as their swords dropped from their hands as zoomed away from their reach. **_“Forþ fleoge!”_**

Arthur felt the wave of invisible magic slam into him full-force, sending him and his knights tumbling backwards through the air. His head smacked painfully against the hard earth as he landed and Arthur saw stars dancing across his blurring vision.

_So this was it._

_This is where he would die._

The young King raised his head defiantly from where he laid upon the earth and glared up at the sorceress who would become his killer. “Why?” Arthur asked, coughing, his voice raspy.

“Why? _Why?_ You’re no better than your father, Pendragon. Magic is banned and it’s because of the _Pendragons,”_ she spat the name out venomously, “-that my family has to cower with fear in the shadows hoping that we wouldn’t be taken away to burn on the pyre,” she stood over him triumphantly, hand ready for the killing blow. “Without you on the throne, magic will be free once more. I’ll make sure of it.”

Inhale…exhale…inhale…exhale…

Would it be quick? Or would it be painful?

Inhale-exhale, inhale-exhale, inhale-exhale-

Arthur closed his eyes and held his breath…

The blow never came.

There was the sound of a piercing, furious screech and frantic wingbeats. Arthur’s eyes snapped open to see Merlin, distracting the sorceress, talons out and attempting to claw every part of her he could reach.

“Merlin! Merlin, get out of here!” Arthur warned as he saw the sorceress aim her hand in a new direction. At Merlin.

Merlin paid him no mind and screeched angrily as he swiped his talons at the woman’s face.

She ducked out of his range.

**_“Forþ fleoge!”_** The woman screamed, sending the falcon barrelling backwards through the air while Arthur watched on in horror. With a little difficulty, Merlin adjusted his wings and fanned his tail, righting himself and preventing a nasty collision with a nearby tree.

Merlin glared at the sorceress with a fierce gaze, blue eyes smouldering. The sorceress stared back, a contemplative look in her eye. “You’re not an ordinary little bird, are you?” Merlin’s piercing eyes narrowed. “No, you are much more than that, don’t deny it, I can _feel_ how powerful you are. Your King has no clue about it, doesn’t he?” She smirked as Merlin’s eyes widened, Arthur thought he looked afraid… _but why?_

Merlin turned and fled, flapping his wings rapidly to speed up his escape. “You won’t get away from me! **_Hine unwréon!”_** Cried the sorceress, sending a white arrow of light shooting after him. The canopy of leaves above them were too thick for the falcon to fly through, and the bushes too high, creating a wall around them.

There was nowhere to go.

Merlin banked sharply to swerve out of the path of the magical arrow, however, both he and Arthur were alarmed to see the arrow change course and chase after Merlin. With a panicked shriek, the merlin struggled to out-fly the spell as it gained ground on him with every frantic attempt to lose it.

Merlin released a pained cry as the arrow-shaped light struck him through his back.

**_“MERLIN!”_** Yelled Arthur, distraught, as he saw Merlin fall lifelessly to the ground below. _“No!”_

The sorceress cackled as she allowed Arthur to stagger to his feet and stumble over to the fallen falcon. Kneeling down, Arthur scooped the small limp body into his arms, cradling him.

“Y-you…you _i-idiot,”_ whispered Arthur, his voice shaking. With a quivering hand, he made to grab the arrow of magic to pull it free, but as his skin made contact with it, it glowed brighter. An almost blinding flare of light filled Arthur’s vision, forcing him to shut his eyes to protect his eyesight. When he cautiously opened them, the arrow was gone and Merlin’s body was glowing a dazzling, brilliant gold. _What?_

Merlin’s small glowing form began to shift and morph, growing larger and longer. Arthur watched in shock as the luminous shape of the falcon’s tail melded away into the changing body, as the feathers morphed into fingers and wings into hands. Clawed talons became human feet, knees twisted to bend the other way as the falcon’s beak became a mouth and nose.

Bird changed into man.

When the golden glow finally faded as the transformation ended, Arthur was left holding a very familiar figure.

The man he had come to know and love, who shared his name with a falcon.

_“Merlin?_ You- _”_ Arthur choked out, struggling to voice his words through the shock that was stabbing him. Something hot and wet dribbled down his cheek, dripping off his chin to splash onto Merlin’s face.

A tear.

“Ar…thur,” Merlin mumbled, slowly blinking his hazy blue eyes open. It was then that Arthur realised why Merlin’s eyes had always looked so familiar. They were the same beautiful blue-grey that he often saw in the falcon’s eyes. “’M sorry…I didn’t… tell you…”

“You have magic,” it wasn’t a question. _Merlin has magic._

“Arthur, I’m-” Merlin started, suddenly much more alert, gazing up at Arthur with wide, terrified eyes.

“No,” interjected Arthur, cutting Merlin’s pleas short. “Leave me.”

“What? _Arthur-”_

“Just _go, Merlin!”_ Arthur snapped, shoving the handsome man off his lap and away from him.

_“Wait! Please!_ Let me explain!” Merlin pleaded, desperately.

“I said **_GO!”_** Arthur roared, eyes burning with unshed tears. Merlin scrambled backwards, flinching from the volume and fury in Arthur’s voice. He watched, heart-shattered, as his lover dragged his feet and reluctantly walked away.

When Merlin turned to look back over his shoulder, his watery blue eyes widened and flashed molten gold. Arthur’s heart skipped a beat as he wondered which of his next few breaths would be his last.

_Thud…_

He heard something collapse onto the ground behind him. Arthur carried on breathing. Alive.

Turning to see what had fallen, Arthur saw the sorceress lying unconscious and unmoving at his feet. He dragged his gaze from his would-be killer to his saviour. Their eyes meet and Arthur stares into Merlin’s silent pleading eyes, watching the tears trickling from them and down his high-cut cheeks with a heavy heart.

Merlin gazes at him for a moment longer before closing his teary eyes, turning his back on Arthur and unsteadily stumbling away.

Only when Merlin had disappeared into the dark shadows of the forest, did Arthur fall to his knees and cover his tear-stained face with quivering hands.

There in the deepest part of the Darkling Woods with only the trees as his witness, the King of Camelot sobbed.

* * *

How could he have been so _blind?!_ All the signs were right _there_ in front of him.

The way Merlin’s strangely familiar eyes would twinkle in amusement when he spoke of the falcon he so frequently took the form of, like he knew something Arthur didn’t.

The way how Merlin pronounced the syllables of his name with such familiarity when they first met, as though they had always been best friends.

The way Merlin would mysteriously appear wherever Arthur chose to hunt, always finding him no matter the location.

His unusual feathers, their extraordinary patterns and magical flecks of sparkling gold.

His bright intelligent blue eyes that spoke of a human-like wisdom unfound in falcons.

Arthur spent hours every night, staying up into the early hours of the morning, pondering about Merlin and his newly uncovered secrets. His heart ached with hurt, despair and a simmering longing that wouldn’t leave him alone.

Yet despite all the misery, anger and the pain…

He still loved Merlin.  

* * *

A month had passed since Arthur last saw Merlin on that dreadful day. After weeks of endless rain, the clouds parted allowing the sun to shine down upon the citadel, making its white walls gleam in the rare sunlight. All in all, it was a perfect day to escape his duties for a few hours to relax in the forest while hunting.

Later, when Arthur set up a skinned hare over a fire to cook, a familiar chirp was heard from a nearby tree. Slowly, Arthur turned to see a golden-flecked merlin perched in the nearest tree branch, vibrant blue eyes staring back at him with an almost shocking intensity.

“Merlin.” The falcon bobbed his head in acknowledgement and gave a single sorrowful chirp. “If you’re going to talk to me at least use actual words. I don’t speak bird, _Mer_ lin.”

The merlin’s blue eyes lit up in a golden blaze before his small body was enveloped in a brief flash of light. When the glow faded, Arthur found himself staring at a very familiar man, his handsome features making Arthur’s heart twist in yearning and his breath hitch in the lump in his throat.

“Arthur, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I didn’t want to ruin our relationship together, it means so much to me and I was scared that you would hate me for lying and-” Prattled Merlin, pleadingly.

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur cut him off, exasperated.

“-I couldn’t bear it if…er…yes?” Merlin asked once his prattling slowed down to a halt.

“Shut up.”

“Oh…” Merlin fell silent and began to absentmindedly trace patterns upon the bark of the branch he sat upon with one of his long, slender fingers.

“So…you have magic,” Arthur reiterated, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen between them.

“Yes,” Merlin replied, simply.

“You’re a sorcerer,” he stated.

“No.” That made Arthur glance up. Merlin avoided eye-contact with him, fidgeting in discomfort.

“No?” Echoed Arthur, his voice saturated with confusion.

“I…uh…Arthur…there’s no easy way to say this,” Merlin stammered, Arthur could feel his stomach squirming inside him. _Does he really want to know?_

_Yes._

“Just spit it out already, I don’t care how bluntly you say it,” urged Arthur, impatiently.

“I’m not exactly…er… _human,”_ Merlin finished, twisting his hands in the fabric of his tunic nervously. _What?_

“Then _what_ exactly are you?”

“I’m a Forest Spirit,” Merlin explained, “We…er…protect the forests we live in and take the forms of animals. Is that, um, is t-that okay with you?” He stuttered, shyly, eyes flicking from his hands to meet Arthur’s confused gaze and back again.

“Of course…” reassured Arthur. “So do Forest Spirits take the form of humans too?”

“No…they can’t. I’m the only one…” Merlin trailed off, his eyes darkening to a stormy blue. _That can’t have been easy._ Arthur was suddenly overwhelmed by an urge to take Merlin into his arms and comfort him, but his lover was perched high up in the tree, too far away to reach.

“Merlin…come here…” Arthur held out a hand towards him, gently beckoning him to approach. Merlin titled his head to one side, staring at Arthur as though trying to figure out whether or not to trust him. Apparently he saw something good enough in Arthur for him to slide off the tree branch, landing in a neat crouch on the forest floor. “Do you remember when we first met? You were injured.”

“Oh, yes, I remember. A flock of ravens were angry with me, they didn’t like that I had stopped them from picking on one of the other Forest Spirits, so they attacked me,” recalled Merlin. _So that’s why he heard the ravens cawing so loudly back then…_ “Then you took me back to Camelot and looked after me...”

Arthur took a step closer until they were so near they were standing toe-to-toe. “You named me,” Merlin leaned in, warm lips brushing Arthur’s, “ _Thank you…_ for that,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around Arthur’s neck.

Their lips caressed each other as they kissed, relishing in the feel of their lover’s body so close after the long month apart. Arthur’s hand slid into the soft tufts of Merlin’s hair, titling his head, their kiss turning desperate as their long pent up emotions were released.

They parted, panting, and instantly Arthur’s thoughts returned their conversation before the kiss. “What do you mean? Didn’t you already have a name?”

“Sort of…everyone here in the forest, the Druids, magical creatures and animals, they all called me ‘Emrys’. But that name never really resonated with me. Besides, ‘Merlin’ grew on me,” said Merlin, his beautiful blue eyes twinkling in amusement.

“Well, _Mer_ lin, now that I know your secrets, will you be coming back to Camelot with me?” He asked his lover, leaning his forehead against Merlin’s, joyful eyes fond and lips tugging in a teasing smirk.

“Of course I will, Dollophead. I promised you, didn’t I?” Merlin said, chuckling, titling his head so that he could give Arthur a soft peck on the lips. “Does this mean that I’m forgiven?”

“Not quite yet, I’m afraid,” Arthur replied, slyly, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “How about another kiss for a start?”

Merlin rolled his eyes, smiling tenderly before complying with Arthur’s request.

* * *

Camelot prospered as the ban on magic was lifted, signalling the dawn of Albion’s Golden Age. No longer did those of magic have to fear the pyre and the chopping block.

They were finally free.

Camelot’s flourishing streets were filled with laughter and cheer, sorcerers performing small magic tricks that lit joy in the eyes of their audiences. A young Druid child gasped and pointed to the skies, drawing the crowd’s attention to a merlin with feathers glittering in the dazzling sun.

The merlin soared low over the rooftops, taking in the colourful celebrations of the people below. With a thrilled cry, the falcon spun in the air before twisting into a dive and swooping up into the open window of the citadel’s Throne Room. He circled the room, empty except for the golden-haired King on the throne, once then twice.

“Welcome back, Merlin,” the King’s voice was warm and content. Merlin glided elegantly over to the raised dais, landing at the feet of the throne. As his talons touched the wooden floor with a soft _clack_ , the falcon glowed, form shifting into a man who kneeled before the regal King.

Arthur stood, holding his arms out for Merlin, who gladly stepped into them. His arms wrapping around Merlin’s waist, Arthur pulled his friend and lover close to him. Merlin buried his face into the side of Arthur’s neck and sighed blissfully.

They stood there together, embracing, gilded in the golden touch of the sun’s afternoon rays.

_This is their Golden Age._

* * *

 

**~The End~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spells:  
> "Ecg misse!" = "Lose the sword!"  
> "Forþ fleoge! =Fly forth!" (These are from the show)  
> “Hine unwréon!”= Roughly translated from Old English as “Reveal him!” (This one I created)  
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> Thanks for reading and for showing all your support!
> 
> What did you think?
> 
> Well, I'll also be posting some more side stories for this "Merlin Wings" series, so it's not the end of it yet, but this marks the end of the main story line. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed reading it.  
> Until next time,
> 
> ~PurpleFlyingBird


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